Celia Deschmertz |
Let's descend!
"Well, losing time doesn't make us any more... well, something. Let's get down there, hm?"
Perception, assuming the trapdoor is open: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9 Haha! Quentin, you're not alone. Good thing this wasn't a will save.
Valai |
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6.
Valai joins the others in checking out the darkness.
Valai really is my least perceptive character ever. :-\ I guess I could use [i]Prestidigitation to sends some faint lights down the tunnel, but that's about it.
A Voice From The Heavens |
The hatch opened down into a tunnel made of worked stone, about ten feet deep underground. Curiously, it seemed the door only opened from the one side. With the various lights sent into the tunnel, the group determined that the tunnel extended about fifty feet into a lit room. Most interesting though, was the faint sound of voices that came from the end of the tunnel.
Valai |
Valai beckons the others to step back from the tunnel, then whispers to them: "This looks like a prison for someone or something potentially unpleasant, and I am short on spells. I recommend we close it up and rest up, then go down in the morning. Or at least after eight hours of uninterrupted relaxation and some nourishment."
Valai |
"Time for a meal and rest," Valai tells Booker. "Sleep, in your case. Close the hatch and let us find a chamber with only one entrance or exit that we can find. We can block it up easier that way. Now..."
The Elf spreads her arms and grimaces in annoyance. "I would offer to join a watch rotation, but I need eight hours of uninterrupted meditation, or I will not be able to cast at my full strength in the morning."
Booker Graves |
Booker roots through his pocket muttering about a misplaced bottle of Oldlaw, then eventually pulls a tophat out, scrunching it up between the top of his head and the top of the glass bubble. Then he pulls his poncho out from the outside and puts it on on top of the suit, and follows this up by pulling out his hammock and trying to find a place to string it up. "Still got the rest of the important stuff I guess. Bet these nannies ain't no substitute for a good peach though. Off to sleep then I guess. Celia, you wake me up when you wanna switch out, y'hear? Or if you need some company."
Celia Deschmertz |
:D I'll rp respond to that after asking this; Has our group found a room that matches Valai's precautions? Are we going to sleep in those bed things (even though Celia's still rather suspicious of them), or what? I know we'd have to backtrack, regardless.
Celia Deschmertz |
@Booker the night before
"Peaches, hm? Now, see, you're making me hungry, Mr. Booker. You know what I want more though? Probably do, but I could use some ale! Some beer! Some mead! Glorious whiskey, gin, rum, and whatever it was the captain was shipping that one time made from potatoes,-"
The gnome pauses, studying the vanara's hat and poncho with a smile that causes her ears to slick back.
"A nice touch, I think. Brings out your fur."
Celia means this, but she makes a mental note to find out exactly what the differences are between hat-hair and hat-vanara in the morning.
"Ah... your offer for company is tempting, you know, but I have a feeling that if I kept talking with' ya, everyone else wouldn't be able to sleep. I'll get you when it's your turn, okie-dokey?"
The cleric is positively beaming, though. At the very least, she is making one friend. Quentin seemed kindof standoffish, and Valai... well, was being Valai, Celia supposed, and the goat somehow managed to pull off the same attitude, but Booker made her feel at home.
-----------------------
@ Keth, cerca morning
Celia opens her eyes reluctantly, bracing herself for a hangover that doesn't come as she rises off her crooked bedroll.
"...Wha? Where? Nanmites?"
Her eyes widen in recognition and comprehension as she remembers where she is and what is talking to her.
"Keth, I don't-," she yawns,"I don't know what that means."
Booker Graves |
Booker pulls his tail into his suit and rights his hat with it while he packs up his hammock.
"Frankly, I don't know how you folks live with just two hands. Anyway, lemme go poke my head down that tunnel and see if that chattering's still goin on.
stealth & perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 291d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Valai |
"If the nanites are working faster, does that mean they will wear out faster as well?" Valai asks as she opens her eyes.
Rather than lie down to sleep, the Elf had been sitting in a meditative pose all night, William the Goat lying behind her snoring as only a goat can while bracing his lady master.
Celia Deschmertz |
"All rightey, then." the gnome whispers, aware that the trap door has been opened yet again.
"I need to pray for a while. I'll avoid drinking while I do it today," she says reluctantly, making it perfectly clear that this wasn't going to be a longstanding pattern and nobody should get used to it. "-but if the accidental god is going to give us a hand, I need to check in, ya know?"
With that, Celia makes her way to the far corner of the room, where she sits casually and places her hands together. Over the next hour, she is prone to random outbreaks of quiet laughter.
0-Guidance, Stabilize, Light
1-Bless, Comprehend Languages Domain-Protection from Law
Assuming there's even time to do this. Please don't aggro them yet, Booker!
Celia Deschmertz |
"Oh, in that case, let me just ask Cayden for a little help. Best we know what's happening, yeah?"
Celia turns her face down and prays, tapping on her holy symbol.
"Please, Mr. God, give me a chance to understand whatever the hell those things are saying."
Comprehend Languages cast.
"We still gonna sneak, guys?"
Celia Deschmertz |
"Kinda." Celia responds without elaboration, the word having a bit of finality to it.
With that, she tries to sneak back in the direction less traveled(by the party rather than Booker).
Stealth: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6
Teehee. Key word 'tries'. XD
A Voice From The Heavens |
Celia snuck closer to the Kethans and listened in. The conversation she heard was no more different than that of a standard family's. They spoke of their day, of times past, and had just a general dialogue that could have easily been pulled from anywhere in the world. For a moment, Celia swore one of them caught a glimpse of her, but the thought was quickly dismissed.
Celia Deschmertz |
Celia is nearly floored with relief that her party didn't decide to simply shoot first and ask questions later. She gives a wide smile, in fact, whispering to Booker.
"It's just small talk. No plotting, no stabbing, ya know? Sounds like a family. Maybe I could try and communicate with 'em?"